The sooner she was released from the hospital, the better, Marjorie decided. With a determination that drove her to the brink of exhaustion, she did five more laps up and down the long corridor, then fell into a deep sleep the minute the dinner tray was removed from her room.

—

“Morning, doctor,” Marjorie said casually when Cal Johnson paid his morning visit. He was a bald, grandfatherly type who certainly hadn’t affected her the way Sam had.

“I see you’ve made considerable progress,” he said, reading over her chart.

“I hope so.”

“You’re walking?”

“Every minute I can.”

“Good.” He nodded approvingly.

“When can I be discharged?” The question had been on her mind from the moment she talked to Bertha Powell. “I feel great—I want to go home.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. However…”

“Doctor, please, I need to get home.”

The grandfatherly brows molded into a tight frown. “I want to keep you until I’m sure you’re a little stronger. A couple days—maybe.”

“Two days!” Marjorie would never last that long. For the sake of her sanity, she had to get out of this place. Heaven only knew what would happen when she saw Sam next. The way matters were progressing, she would profess her love for him the moment he walked in the door. That was just the kind of crazy, foolish thing she might do.

“We’ll see how things progress today,” Dr. Johnson said on his way out the door.

—

A half-hour after Dr. Johnson had left her room, Sam appeared.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Marjorie responded in a flat, emotionless tone. She did her utmost to pretend she was looking straight at him when in reality her gaze rested on the wall behind him. Even looking in Sam Bretton’s direction was dangerous to her equilibrium. She should be reassured that she was like every one of his other patients, but she wasn’t. Such strong emotions were strangers to her and best avoided.

“Marjorie, what’s wrong?”

“I want out of here!”

“You aren’t alone in that, you know. Everyone who ever stays in the hospital is eager to get home.”

“But I feel terrific.” That wasn’t entirely true. “I’m as strong as an ox.”

“Why don’t you leave it in Dr. Johnson’s hands?” he offered gently. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“But two days is an eternity,” Marjorie insisted.

Sam’s cajoling smile vanished. “Cal suggested you could leave then?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure he’s mistaken.”

“What do you mean?” Marjorie grumbled.

“Dr. Johnson’s obviously forgotten that there isn’t anyone at your apartment to watch over you when you’re released.”